Thus far, Maeve had refrained from killing any of her relations. This was something of a feat, given how mercilessly they had been teasing her. While the witch had not expected she would be able to endure it, the knowledge that she had her husband's confidence and support had helped immeasurably to bolster her own self-confidence, and so while she found their barbs irksome, they did not gnaw at her as they might have otherwise.

Instinct saw her hand reach swiftly for his offending wrist, but then the auror realized what had happened and, rather than break a finger as she had intended, Maeve instead moved his hand to rest cozily upon her hip. She enjoyed the closeness of him, and the relative quiet their walk out of doors provided. Perhaps the worst thing about sharing a roof with her family was the lack of privacy such arrangements garnered, and the witch found herself wondering if Lorcan hadn't had the right idea after all in leaving.

Such notions would have to be put out of her mind at once, Maeve reasoned. She had already put her father and mother through enough of a shock.

"Perhaps we ought to take some time from work," she suggested slyly, "to go abroad for a bit, have a proper honeymoon."